


Black & Gold

by sirius



Category: Super Junior
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-29
Updated: 2012-03-29
Packaged: 2017-11-02 17:02:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/371329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirius/pseuds/sirius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic was written in 2008 and contains sexual content.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Black & Gold

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written in 2008 and contains sexual content.

Kangin stands in front of the mirror and listens to the dull thudding of the cars outside. He's tweaking his shirt collar and the horns honk almost as if the noise is connected to his fingers. _Going for the Thriller look_ , he says to himself, trying not to remember all of the other fancy dress parties he's been to in his life. He never had the right costumes, always just what his mother had lying around. Always looked like somebody's brother, a little kid who'd only been told about the party half an hour beforehand. Invited at the last minute.

 

Irritably he yanks his collar. Fifteen, that Halloween party. Just out of school and there was beer and a girl with careful hands. A girl who held a plastic pint of beer as though it were a teacup. A girl who looked at him, at his _Thriller_ outfit, and sneered her perfect tiny little upper lip, just a tiny little bit. A girl who ended up in the cupboard with a friend, emerged with her perfect tiny little lips all smudged like a painting of a kiss. A girl with a jaw made of china, a heart made of stone.

 

So he doesn't arrive in the best mood. Heechul opens the door and his body is drenched in black. There are two perfect scarlet horns on his head and a sideways smile. In the background, Siwon is a Jedi Knight. Hankyung has straw coming out of his shirt. There's music, loud and full of sunshine. And in the middle of the room, Eeteuk is dancing. Not well, not well at all but Kangin can't tear his eyes away. In slow motion he seems to jump and turn and when their eyes meet, Eeteuk's smile drags him back to the ground. 

 

Somebody presses a beer into his hand as Eeteuk trips across and he drinks it in one. _Kangin! Michael Jackson!_ Eeteuk laughs, and he's wearing angel wings and his eyes, there's sparkle on them and in them. Kangin smiles and rubs the back of his neck where he's warm and there's water there. Eeteuk has had beer, lots of beer, not as much beer as Kangin wants to drink yet. He reaches for another one and it's bitter to his tongue. Eeteuk is still dancing, putting a hand on his shoulder that makes him think of cupcakes. _Teuk_ , he says. 

 

_Michael requests to dance with you_. It makes Eeteuk laugh, which is more than Kangin expects. The sound comes with its usual disbelief, the odd discontentment. Eeteuk spins around in his arms and the beer spins around in his head. He has careful hands, hands he moves around Kangin's neck, where he's warm and where the water is. A jaw made of china, a heart made of duck feathers. When he moves Kangin feels feathers under his hands and Eeteuk's heartbeat. He raises his gaze and the glitter catches the light. Makes him look like he's been crying.

 

_Eeteuk_ , Kangin says, again, though Eeteuk isn't hearing him. His mouth is wide and Kangin realises that it isn't crying, it's happiness. _Shut up_ , Eeteuk says. _You said dancing, not talking_. Kangin's about to feel stung when Eeteuk presses closer and all thought goes out the window. The music seems to get louder and louder as Eeteuk moves into him, fluid like they're two pints of water pouring into the sink. Before he can even understand it, he throws the two glasses into the sink. Eeteuk's wrist is taut and warm in his hand. His voice behind is laughing still. 

 

Laughing into the darkness, Eeteuk's hands are on Kangin's belt. Hands too fine for the buckle, he wrenches hard with frustration and Kangin tries not to be so hard, not to want so much. His lip is full between his teeth and Eeteuk's eyes are so beautiful and irritated. When he moves his hands down to help, Eeteuk smacks them and his laugh is thick with a pulse. _I've got it_ , he says. _Fuck, it's because you're hard_. Kangin's mouth on his neck, drinking in the words from under his Adam's apple. _I can feel what's underneath the wrapping paper_.

 

_Oh, fuck_ , Kangin mutters, because Eeteuk is a scrabbler. He hasn't finesse but he's got tough little fingers and the first touch is brutal. The kiss is like a sock in the jaw. Kangin stands on the spot and seems to spin with it, the current that runs right to the hair on his arms. His tongue seems to fit Eeteuk's mouth more than his own. And then the wings are sliding down to the floor and too late Kangin realises that Eeteuk is, too. The first brush of his mouth is ice on a bruise, like water on fire.

 

Virginal is how Kangin describes himself. Standing in front of the mirror with the cars outside. He's always been virginal, even after the first disastrous time. His hands shake before he gets to having sex, always that feeling of sheer incredulous luck, like the tension in a great dream before you wake. Eeteuk looks up at him from the bed and Kangin realises that he's shaking. With need or with promises or with the weight of it, what's about to happen. Feathers fall and they're heavy like balls of sand. When he touches Eeteuk, his body curves like a rainbow.

 

Eeteuk's hand holds on and his fingers wind around, squeezing a heartbeat. His breath is rapid like gunfire. Kangin thinks about these things because if he doesn't, he'll embarrass himself. His body is as tight as it looks. His eyelashes dampen up and down with the pleasure of it. Sensations wriggles from his balls down his spine to his mouth, where his kisses it into Kangin. And when he rocks, when there's a spike of pleasure that takes Eeteuk's heart and squeezes it, he squeezes it into Kangin's hand. Kangin squeezes it back, kisses it back, pours it all back.

 

Mouth slack lets gasps out, Kangin notices. His jaw is flat on Eeteuk's collarbone, pressed to the side, looking from the corners at Eeteuk's upturned chin. When Kangin pushes inside he holds on for dear life and the breath presses out, rolls thick into a ball of moaning. There's warmth and water on his chest, between them, sticking them together. And at the last moment, when Eeteuk's hand squeezes and doesn't let go, the muscles in his forearm jam up like a broken record. In that moment, Kangin reaches around his bunching hips and lifts him clean into his lap.

 

Eeteuk's wings are crooked and bent out of shape. His back flexes and they flex with it, carrying the scent of pleasure out of him and into the air. In the background the music is dim but Eeteuk's skin is loud, his mouth is loud, his little screaming lips are loud. Kangin kisses them like a drum, his throat rolling with the sounds as he swallows them. Eeteuk's arms are clinging to his neck where the water is and he's choking as his nails dig in, as his hips dig in, those scrawny little bones wringing all the pleasure out. 

 

_Yes_ , he's spitting and Kangin's holding him by the chin, holding him by the back because his body is limp like pulp, gasps made of fleeing muscle and bone. Leaning back Eeteuk's eyes are dark and his chin is rolling water and he's so hard, so impossibly hard that when Kangin touches him it's like electricity. The spark comes alight and races up his chest, over his throat, exploding in his eyes. 

Midnight breathing on a singed mattress. The door knocks and Eeteuk walks wearing white bedsheets. Hazily, Kangin watches.

Eeteuk's wings lit in the doorway, and Heechul's scarlet horns.


End file.
